What's Past is Prologue
by Caliente
Summary: series of unrelated unseen scenes in season 7 –– 14. 'Flesh and Blood' Abby asks about Tim's parents and he deflects; 15. 'Jet Lag' Abby speculates over TIVA while Tim tries not to; 16. 'Masquerade' Abby isn't annoyed and Tim isn't overly skinny; 17. 'Jack Knife' Abby worries Werth hurt Tim—and the rest of the team; 18. 'Jack Knife' Abby sees Tim's run ragged and insists he rests
1. Truth or Consequences I

**Author's Note:** To start, some story notes. This will be a series of stand alone one-shots/drabbles/etc. starring McGee and Abby set during season 7. They'll be posted chronologically and titled for the episode they're attached to. (Some episodes will have multiple entries but not too many.) The idea is that these fit into the continuity created by the show, so there mostly aren't any really _overt_ romantic aspects... more friendship-y with some jealousy and mixed signals and the like. Also, I don't currently have a beta reader, so grammar/continuity errors are mine and mine alone—and if you spot any, please let me know!  
(Now, onto this segment.) 200-word drabble set during the first episode between the time the team gets the okay to go to Africa and when they actually arrive/are captured there. Told from Abby's perspective. So, if you haven't run off yet—enjoy!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Truth or Consequences (I)**

The day before the team was heading off to Somalia, Abby cornered McGee in her lab. She knew he was a field agent, knew that he'd come into his own in recent years. That didn't stop her from worrying, though. "Promise me that you'll come back safe."

McGee looked up, a small crease between his eyebrows. "Abby…"

"_Promise_, McGee_,_" she insisted. She needed to hear the words. She just… did.

He met her gaze for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Okay; I promise."

She hugged him then, tightly and longer than their usual. Neither of them really believed him—it wasn't the kind of promise he could really make. But that day, in her lab, it was enough.

Later, she hugged each of them good-bye in the Bullpen with Ducky and Palmer, even Vance. Gibbs first ("Bring them—and yourself—home safely, Gibbs. I'm depending on you."), then Tony ("Be careful, Tony—I expect you to come home in one piece."), and finally Tim ("Remember your promise, McGee. I'm holding you to it.").

They all squeezed her back and whispered comforting words. Abby hoped they were right; she didn't want Africa to break any of them. Not after Ziva.


	2. Truth or Consequences II

**Author's Note: **Post-episode tag to the first episode. A full vignette told from McGee's perspective. (Side note—not all updates will come so quickly.) Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Truth or Consequences (II)**

The exhaustion Tim felt upon their triumphant return to NCIS headquarters was the kind that went all the way to the bone. Tony was the first to sit at his desk but McGee followed not long after, feeling he was sagging on his feet. (Plus, he hadn't checked his email in days and he was itching to learn what he'd missed during his African vacation.)

He didn't mean to get so engrossed but such was his way when it came to computers. So, when Abby wrapped him in a hug from behind, Tim was a bit startled. The way she'd been holding onto Ziva, he'd been half-convinced she wouldn't let go ever again. But Ducky had probably insisted on checking her out just to be certain she was still whole—in body, at least.

Abby didn't say anything but her hold was tighter than the usual—not unlike the time Corporal Worth had dislocated his shoulder. "Ooh, gentle Abs," he asked more than told. (She never really listened, anyway.) "I'm a little sore."

"Did you sleep at all on the way back?" she asked, not loosening her grip even one iota.

Tim would've shrugged if he could. "Not really. Our ride wasn't very comfortable and we were all… well, you know." Exhausted but filled with adrenaline; staring at Ziva to make sure she wasn't a mirage—the usual.

Abby did let him go then and he turned to see her biting her lip. "Come on, let's get you home." Her hand was outstretched toward him.

Without even thinking, he took it. Tim could feel the exhaustion catching up with him again and it occurred to him that, aside from being forcibly struck unconscious, he hadn't slept in quite some time. "You're not waiting for Ziva?" he asked as they made their way to the elevator.

"Gibbs and Ducky are still trying to convince her to go to the hospital, since she's dehydrated and needs to be properly checked out and, if they can't do that, I'm sure one of them will insist she stays with them," she explained. "Tony probably would be down there with them but Ducky made Palmer take him home to sleep off the aftereffects of whatever that jerk Saleem injected him with."

Tim nodded. "Oh." He was leaning heavily of the back of the elevator, eyes shut.

They lapsed into silence as he dragged himself to her car and Abby watched him worriedly. She was just waving to the guard as she left the Navy Yard when he finally began to doze.

His eyes opened again to find they were parked outside his apartment. Tim smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Abby." He was moving slowly, though, and she was beside him by the time he got out of the car. "You don't have to…"

"Yes, I do." Tim knew there was no point in arguing when she used that tone. She smiled at him after a moment, though. "Besides, someone needs to let Jethro out."

Tim's eyes widened a little. "Jethro…" He looked at Abby. "Thank you so much for taking care of him while I was away."

Abby's grin was brilliant. "No problem; I love that big guy."

She ushered him into his apartment and insisted he at least rinse off in the shower before collapsing on his bed. Tim wanted to argue but she was right—he knew she was right. It felt like everything was moving so slowly and only when he got out of the shower, a towel around his waist (to preserve whatever little modesty he might have left where Abby was concerned), did he realize that it was _him_ moving slowly.

His eyes were only half-opened as he brushed his teeth and threw on some pajama pants and an old MIT t-shirt. He opened the bedroom door to see Abby giving Jethro a bone and telling him he was a good boy. "You spoiled him while I was gone, didn't you?"

"Of course." Abby straightened and crossed to him. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

If he hadn't been so tired—or maybe if he'd been Tony—he would've made a comment or smirked there. But Tim just nodded and let her lead him back into his bedroom.

He was just laying down when he caught sight of Abby fidgeting near him. There was an anxious look on her face and he knew she had something she needed to talk about. Tim pushed through his exhaustion and sat up. "Abs, what is it?"

She was staring at her hands, and she didn't look up, even when she finally spoke. "Tell me what happened, Tim. Please."

"Abby…" He'd been hoping to avoid this at least until he'd had some rest.

Now she met his gaze, green eyes imploring. "_Please_, Timmy."

The thing about Abby was that he could never refuse her, not when she looked at him like that. So he told her. He told her about being captured and feigning unconsciousness while he had to listen to Tony being tortured (although it wasn't so bad as far as torture went, for whatever that was worth), about Ziva being revealed to them, about breaking protocol because Saleem was going to kill Ziva and they'd just gotten her back. How Tony had to save him, the way Gibbs finishing the job and then the three of them made their way out supporting Ziva with exactly one gun and one knife.

By the time he was done, Abby's eyes were wide as saucers and there were tear tracks on her cheeks. "You—you were in the room?" He nodded. "Oh, Timmy…" She wrapped him in a hug and he felt tears in his own eyes for the first time. The weight of it hadn't felt real in the moment, his body running on adrenaline and the desert of Somalia being so far from home.

Abby climbed over him, never releasing her hold on him, until she was on his bed too. She pushed his shoulders down so he was lying again and curled beside him. Tim didn't ask—he didn't have to. They were best friends and he knew she needed to feel him there with her as much as he did her.

Her breathing quieted and he was nearly asleep when he heard her whisper, "You could have _died_."

Tim moved his arms so they wrapped around her and rubbed comforting circles on her back. "But I didn't—none of us did." He didn't add that it was part of the job, that sometimes they _did_ die (SEE: Caitlyn Todd), that he'd been sure he _would_ die when Saleem pointed his gun at him lying on the ground with his hands bound.

Two silent words hung over them, though, as they both were lulled to sleep—his fueled by physical exhaustion and hers emotional. Two words, like a curse: _this time_.


	3. Reunion

**Author's Note: **Drabble scene set during the second episode. Told from McGee's perspective. Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Reunion**

When Tim entered Abby's lab, he was greeted by a strange sight. Abby was standing on a step ladder, struggling to attach… _something _to the ceiling. He took a moment to appreciate the angle (hey, he was only human) before clearing his throat to alert her to his presence."Need any help there, Abs?"

"Nah, I got it." She glanced down at him. "What's up, McG?"

Tim shrugged. "That blogger's still trashing NCIS."

Shaking her head, she returned to whatever it was she'd been doing before he arrived. "Then why are you smirking?"

"Ziva said I was more handsome than Tony." He puffed out his chest as if to prove his point.

Apparently finished, Abby dusted her hands as she stepped down from her ladder. "Of course she did—what better way to mess with Tony's head?"

Tim sighed quietly. Yes, he'd known that but it took away some of the satisfaction. "Yeah."

"Not that I don't agree with her, mind you." Abby smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I've always thought you were handsomer than Tony."

That was somewhat unexpected. They'd dated, sure, but he always figured personality played a big role in that—or else they wouldn't still be such good friends. "Yeah?"

Abby rolled her eyes as if it was obvious. "Yeah. I love Tony but he's way too into the theory that the clothes make the man." Her eyes sparkled a little. "And—his nose has a bump. Yours is way cuter."

Tim was still grinning long after he left the basement.

* * *

**AN2:** I know the Blogger episode is the next one but Tony said he'd been slamming NCIS for a while, so I figured it'd be McGee keeping track of him being as it's an online thing and all.


	4. Inside Man

**Author's Note: **250-word drabble scene set during the third episode. Told from McGee's perspective. Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Inside Man  
**

Tim meant what he told Gibbs; he was going to handle Agent Grady. (Because, nice legs aside, he was just too uncomfortable with how forward she'd been.) He just wanted to get some advice from a friend first, that was all. He wasn't avoiding the issue. Really.

Which was why he was sitting in Abby's lab (instead of, say, the polygraph department), explaining his problem. "So what do you think I should do?"

Abby, for her part, wasn't looking at Tim; she was puttering around her lab table as she organized the evidence being passed to Metro for Sutton's case. "You could show her your mugshot picture," she offered; "bet that'd turn her off."

"Abby," he admonished, crossing his arms, "I'm being serious."

Laughing, she shook her head. "So am I." He huffed and she turned, apparently taking pity on him. "You're cute, Timmy, don't get me wrong but in a petrified deer-in-headlights sort of way. Not what most women are looking for."

He rolled his eyes. (As if he'd needed her to tell him _that_.) "Gee, thanks."

Abby laughed again and pinched his cheek. "Don't worry so much, McGee. Just be honest and it'll turn out fine—you'll see."

Although not terribly inclined to agree, Tim had to admit that honesty probably wasn't a terrible idea. It was just the potential fallout he wasn't looking forward to. And the awkward conversation that would lead to said fallout. And—maybe avoiding the issue wasn't such a terrible idea, after all.


	5. Good Cop, Bad Cop

**Author's Note: **300-word drabble scene set during the fourth episode. Told from McGee's perspective. Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Good Cop, Bad Cop  
**

Abby was standing off to the side of the bullpen fidgeting when Tim returned from delivering Officer Ben-Gideon to the conference room with Tony. "Abs? What're you doing up here?"

Her eyes were wide as she turned toward him. "I heard about that Mossad guy showing up. He's here for Ziva, isn't he?" Her stare was penetrating.

After a moment's hesitation, Tim nodded. "He says NCIS is holding her hostage." He paused. "I think her father wants her home."

Abby frowned. "But Leon isn't going to let him take her back to Israel, right? And Gibbs! Gibbs would never let anyone take her after everything you guys went through to get her back."

"I…" Tim shook his head, knowing he couldn't give her the answer she wanted. Not if he wanted to be honest. "I don't know, Abby."

She bit her lip. "You don't think she had anything to do with Cryer's death, do you?"

He didn't want to upset Abby (or, worse, piss her off) but—"I hope not."

As expected, she was not pleased with his response. "McGee, come on! This is Ziva! She wouldn't kill a marine."

Tim didn't say anything; he just kept his gaze steady on Abby.

"I mean, I know she was a spy but she's not—I mean, she wouldn't…" Abby was losing steam. "Not unless he deserved it."

Tim knew she wanted to believe that more than anything else but they both heard the question in her tone. (Just as they knew there was more to Mossad—and her family—than either of them understood.)

Still, Abby's expression was just _so_ sad that Tim couldn't help himself—he enveloped her in a tight hug. "It'll be okay, Abs," he promised. He just wished he sounded more confident, that he _was_ more confident.


	6. Code of Conduct

**Author's Note: **250-word drabble scene set during the Halloween episode. Told from McGee's perspective this time. :) Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Code of Conduct  
**

Tim and Abby had been working in tandem for a while, a comfortable silence stretching between them. Major Mass Spec broke their reverie, announcing that he had results. Abby moved to see them and Tim leaned back a little, stretching his arms over his head. (They had been sitting for some time now.)

Frowning absently at the Halloween decorations littering Abby's Lab (previously belonging to the deceased Lance Corporal), he let his mind wander a bit. Which reminded him, there _was_ something he'd been meaning to mention to her—"It's not my fault that Vance banned costumes, you know."

"You don't know that," Abby chirped in response, flashing a smirk over her shoulder. "Your jeans _were_ awfully tight. Hardly befitting of a _federal _agent."

Tim gaped at her momentarily. "The Jonas Brothers costume was your idea!"

She shrugged. "Yeah—but I didn't think you'd actually do it." Her head tilted thoughtfully. "Or that you'd find two other guys willing to dress up with you."

Crossing his arms, he let out a long-suffering sigh. "Gee, thanks, Abs."

She continued undeterred. "You could always try again this year, though."

Tim blinked and then gave her a pointed look. He was pretty sure she was contradicting previous statements made.

Shrugging, she smiled a little. "I'm just saying—you're looking _good_ these days, McG."

Despite his best efforts, he felt his ears warm. "Uh-huh." (Although he was mostly humoring her—in truth, going once as a JoBro had probably been one time too many.)


	7. Outlaws and Inlaws

**Author's Note: **300-word drabble scene set during the episode, after Abby takes a chainsaw to the boat. Told from Abby's perspective. Enjoy!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Outlaws and Inlaws  
**

Abby stood in the garage facing the pieces of what was once Gibbs' boat. She picked up the nearest one, inspecting it carefully. "I'm so close—I _know_ I can figure it out…"

"Oh God," apparently McGee had arrived, "are you still on that Abby?"

Scowling, she put the wood down again with more care than most would show. (She meant what she'd said—she'd have the boat back in pristine condition again when the case was over.) When she turned toward him, her hands were on her hips. "How do _you_ think he got the boat out then?"

He sighed. "Abby…"

She crossed her arms. "C'mon, McGee—let's hear your brilliant theory." He had to have one to be so dismissive.

(Except that he really didn't.) "I don't know…" He shrugged. "Maybe he removed part of the outer basement wall, then used levers and pulleys or something to get it out."

There was a minute where Abby stared at him thoughtfully. "Hmm." She turned back to the boat. "You know, that might actually work."

"Abby…"

She pretended not to hear him. "I mean, you have to figure that Gibbs has the know-how to pull something like that off, right? And—"

"Abby!" McGee tried again.

This time she responded: "What?"

He shook his head. "Just let it go."

She furrowed her brows; she _couldn't_ just let it go! Not while the mystery was still unsolved. "But—"

"Seriously." Tim placed his hands on her arms, squeezing gently as he met her gaze. "For your own good." He kissed her softly on the cheek.

Abby huffed but didn't argue. (Aloud, that was. Silently, she reaffirmed her vow to learn the secret. One way or the other, she was going to discover how he'd gotten that boat out of his basement.)


	8. Endgame

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took a bit longer to update; I've been in and out of town (and am off again tomorrow). But, anyway, a 200-word drabble scene set during the episode, set after the scene where McGee laments over the fact that he's going to die alone. Told from McGee's perspective. Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Endgame**

"McGee!" Tim was hit by a flying, Abby-sized projectile. It knocked the air out of him but he still hugged her back tightly.

Until she pulled away to smack him on the shoulder. "Ow!"

Abby fixed him with a fierce expression. "Kai had to save you? She's, like, a crazed killing machine! You need to be more careful!"

Rubbing his arm, Tim shrugged. "I'll try."

"Not good enough, McGee!" For a moment he thought she was going to hit him again—until she looked up at him with large, suspiciously shiny doe eyes. "What if something _happened_ to you?"

Tim put his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. "Nothing happened, Abby. Nothing's _going to_ happen."

Abby crossed her arms defiantly. "You don't know that."

"True," he admitted reluctantly, "but I will _always _do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't."

Nodding, she appeared satisfied with that. "So no more dates with random girls?" (Or maybe not.)

Tim blinked. "Um…" But Abby just hugged him again. And, if she noticed his lack of response, she didn't say anything.

He was fine with leaving things there; it was much more pleasant than belaboring the point.


	9. Power Down

**Author's Note: **Short drabble scene set during the episode, after McGee and Ziva are freed from the elevator but before they arrive at the crime scene. (In my head canon, it fits with my fic _trapped in a box (i'm not alone)_ but reading that is in no way necessary to understanding this. Told from McGee's perspective. Sorry for the long wait but updates should be more consistent now that I'm home again. :) Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Power Down  
**

As far as Timothy McGee was concerned, having no power (or phones or internet) was a terrible inconvenience. (And not just because he'd been trapped overnight in an elevator because of it, though that certainly hadn't helped his opinion on the matter.) There were so many little things that should've been so simple but without power became incredibly tedious hassles.

Take his current assignment. Instead of texting Abby about their case on his way down to the garage, Tim was breathlessly racing down more flights of stairs than he cared to count to tell her in person. Because that was her only option. (Although, it could be worse—Ziva had been tasked with informing Ducky and Palmer. That would've added an extra flight for him to suffer.)

But good news—he'd finally arrived. Panting, Tim poked his head into Abby's lab. She was setting up a boom box and casting mournful glances at her various machines. (Major Mass Spec in particular.) "Hey, Abs," he blurted out in a rush, "Gibbs wanted me to let you know that we're heading out to a crime scene." Mission completed, he was intent on turning tale and making for the garage.

"McGee!" Despite visible surprise, she ran toward him and pulled him into a hug (and her lab by proxy).

So much for his brilliant escape plan. Tim smiled tolerantly and tried to loosen her grip on him. "Abby, I have to—"

Suddenly and without warning, she released him. "Is it true? Were you and Ziva were locked in an elevator all night?"

Whatever he'd been expecting, that wasn't it. "Until just a little while ago, yeah." He could've told her exactly how long it'd been if not for the unfortunate demise of his watch.

Abby threw her arms around him again. "Oh, you poor thing!" She clucked her tongue. "Trapped with Ziva—she could've killed you!"

_Probably would have if I'd been Tony_, Tim didn't point out. Because he wanted to keep living, thanks. Instead, he tried to edge toward the door. "Thankfully my Rolex was the only casualty." Despite his best efforts, her grip was not loosening. "Abby, I really have to go," he told her urgently. "You know how Gibbs gets when we take too long."

Finally she released him and he was half a step out when her hesitant voice stopped him. (Abby rarely hesitated.) "Tim?"

Suppressing a sigh, he turned back to face her again. "What Abby?" He tried to sound patient but knew it was mostly a failing effort.

She fiddled with her bracelet and didn't quite meet his eye. "Nothing happened, right?"

Tim blinked. "When?"

Exasperated, Abby rolled her eyes his direction. "Last night!"

"What do you—?" He stopped cold. Like he was almost sure his veins had been filled with ice. "Wait, you mean with Ziva?" Tim was torn between terror and amusement at the thought. "Aside from some bickering and a shared crappy night's sleep, no, nothing happened."

The relief was visible on Abby's face. "Okay."

Which only served to befuddle him further. "Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay." As if that explained everything. Tim was sorely tempted to point that out—until Abby reminded him of something else. "Didn't you say something about Gibbs waiting on you?"

"What?" He snapped out of it and cursed quietly to himself. "Right. Later, Abs!" He tossed her a wave as he hurried out the door, hoping he hadn't just earned himself a headslap—or worse.


	10. Child's Play

**Author's Note: **Missing exchange just before the last scene in the episode. Told from McGee's perspective. Thanks for reading!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Child's Play**

Abby was en route from autopsy to her lab when Tim caught up to her. "Hey, Abs, I need a favor."

The grin on her face was wide and unassuming, a splash of brilliant red on her pale face. "Sure, McGee! What can I do ya for?"

"Would you mind giving me a ride to Ducky's?" he asked hopefully.

Abby narrowed her eyes as she considered him. "What's wrong with your car?"

"Nothing—which is why Sarah took it as planned to visit our parents for the long weekend." He shrugged. (He'd been trying not to think too hard about what his sister might do to the car he'd spent far too much money on.)

"Aw!" Abby clapped her hands together, happy expression restored. "Of _course _I can give you a ride." She looked at him through her lashes.  
"You're such a sweet brother, Timmy."

Somehow, despite the fact it was Abby (or maybe _because_ it was her), Tim felt his ears and neck warming. He shrugged again and hoped she didn't notice. (Unlikely as that was.) "Well, there was no reason for us both to miss the trip home." He tried not to sound too bitter about it—the case _had_ been important.

She laced her hand through his, fingers entwined, and squeezed. (Which probably meant he hadn't been entirely successful.) "Still."

He smiled back, returning the squeeze with one of his own. "Thank you." He wasn't really sure if he was thanking her for the ride or the compliment—probably a bit both, really.

The hold he kept on her hand was loose enough for her to pull away if she wanted but she made no move to do so. The pair walked hand in hand until they were forced to part at Abby's lab.

Tim waved good-bye as he waited for the elevator and didn't watch too hard as she walked away. (With his luck, Gibbs would be right there to catch him.) And if he couldn't quite temper the grin on his face, well, no surprise there—she'd always had that effect on him.


	11. Faith I

**Author's Note: **100 word drabble set during the little montage at the end of the episode. Told from McGee's perspective. Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Faith (I)**

Contrary to popular belief, Tim could tell when he was being manipulated by Abby. It was just that most of the time he didn't care.

And, truthfully, he didn't mind jumping through hoops and bartering for MTAC time. Not when he had the chance to gift a Christmas wish to a kid who missed his mom.

Because he remembered what it was like to have Christmas come when his father was away on assignment. And if he hadn't had his mom there? Well… Tim was just glad he did. (His sister, too, though he never would've admitted it back then.)


	12. Faith II

**Author's Note: **Vignette tag to the episode, told from Abby's perspective. This is probably my favorite so far (and definitely the most "McAbby" of the bunch), so I really hope anyone reading enjoys it, too! Cheers.  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Faith (II)  
**

It was cold outside as Abby stood outside McGee's door watching her breaths create small puffs before dispersing. She'd knocked twice and heard Jethro's low whine followed by a shout from McGee somewhere inside the apartment that he'd be, "Just a minute!" And, sure, it wasn't raining or snowing but she kind of wished she'd brought the key she still had to his place with her, so she could just let herself in because it was cold and late and _cold_.

When he answered the door, Abby wasn't surprised to see he'd changed out of his suit and into sweats. Well, sweat pants, anyway. His shirt was still on, though partially unbuttoned. He looked a little confused but stepped aside to let her in. (Thankfully.) "Abby, what're you doing here?" he asked as he closed the door behind her.

"What kind of greeting is that, McGee?" she teased, hands on her hips. Jethro was brushing against her legs and she scratched behind his ears absently. "Especially when I come bearing gifts." She punctuated her statement by pulling a neatly wrapped rectangle from her satchel with flourish.

He looked at the gift, then her, and then back at the gift again. "Abby, I thought we agreed to exchange gifts after Christmas."

Abby grinned widely. "I know but after you were so fantastic with helping me out earlier, I just… wanted to say thank you. Again." She placed a hand on his arm. "I know you didn't have to do that, and I know you could've gotten in a lot of trouble," in fact, she was pretty sure he was going to get into at least a little trouble if he hadn't already, "but you did it anyway and made Fisher's Christmas wish come true." And it'd been amazing to watch—to see them together and so happy. Beautiful.

Ears red, McGee scratched the back of his head bashfully. "Well… I know what it's like to have a parent deployed during the holidays." He gave one of her shoulders a squeeze. "I was happy to help—really."

"And that is why you ended up on my good list, Timmy! Merry Christmas!" Abby pushed the gift on him and then wandered further in to take a seat. He was still standing there looking a bit dumbfounded, so she added more encouragement: "C'mon, McGee, you don't think I schlepped all the way over here just watch you stare at it. Open it already!"

Rolling his eyes, he turned toward her and did as instructed. He removed the paper carefully—too carefully, in her opinion; wrapping paper was meant to be ripped!—to reveal a book. But not just any book, no. This was a book that Abby had searched long and hard for; it was—

"A first edition H.G. Wells novel?" The look of disbelief on McGee's face made her grin even wider. "Abby! You—! I—!" He took a breath and smiled, coming over to where she was sitting to give her a big hug. "Thank you. This is—amazing, wonderful, so cool." The words spilled out of his mouth like he just couldn't find enough adjectives to describe how thrilled he was.

Abby nodded enthusiastically. "I saw it in this old bookstore and I just thought… I mean, it's _H.G. Wells!_ And, who knows? Maybe it'll help inspire your own work when you get stuck."

Kissing the top of her head, McGee put the book down gently beside her and moved to his other desk. "Well, mine's not so nicely wrapped but since you're here…" He pulled something out of a drawer and then handed it to her.

It had the look of one of the golden tickets from Willy Wonka but, as far as Abby was concerned, this was _so much better!_ She jumped up excitedly and launched herself at him. "McGee! It's the spa that Kate and I went to!" The memory only hurt a tiny bit—the smallest twinge in her heart, really. But she thought Kate would be happy for her and that helped.

He laughed, squeezing her in return. "I remember. I got you two passes, so you can either go twice or take someone with you." She gaped at him (because that spa wasn't cheap) and he shrugged. "I wasn't sure if going to the spa was the kind of thing better done alone or with a friend."

That, she thought, was why she would always love Timothy McGee. He didn't just do the kindly awesome thing—he thought about the person he was doing said thing for and then made sure it was as nice as it could possibly be. With no expectations of reciprocation or special thanks. No, he did it because he cared about her, plain and simple. And that was just so… sweet. So _Tim_.

Without thinking, Abby gave him a loud kiss on the cheek. Then she laughed. "Whoops, that's the second time I've left lipstick on you today." She reached forward to clean it off.

McGee caught her hand before she reached his cheek, smiling at her in that way that still made her stomach quiver. "I don't mind." He held her gaze and her hand for a long moment before kissing her forehead again and releasing her.

Abby wasn't quite certain, but she thought she might be a little disappointed—and that didn't suit, _especially_ around Christmas. So she grabbed his collar before he could turn away and kissed him soundly on the lips.

And that? Was not disappointing, not at all.

After a moment's hesitation, Tim returned her kiss but kept it sweet and light. (Mostly.) And when they parted, it was him who pulled away first… though he was holding her face in his hands and there were only a few inches between them. "Why did you do that?" His eyes were searching hers as if they held all the answers in the world.

"Because—because I wanted to." It was all the answer she had. Or maybe just all the answer she would (could?) admit.

His hands slid to her shoulder and he straightened. "You didn't have to—" He shook his head, no longer meeting her eyes. "I mean, the book was more than enough thanks, if that's what—"

Abby touched the side of his face to stop him. "No, Timmy…" She smirked a little. "Although, you did make a _sexy_ Santa." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "It just felt right. Feels _right_." She paused, biting her lip. "Don't you think?" Because maybe he didn't. Maybe that was why he'd only kissed her on the forehead, why he'd kept from touching her too much or kissing her too deeply. Maybe she was looking for something that just wasn't _there_ anymore.

A long moment stretched between them where Tim still didn't look at her and Abby wondered if maybe she should just pack it in and try to escape with some of her dignity intact. He didn't say anything when he finally met her gaze but his eyes were dark and his expression serious. She held her breath and then he was kissing her, mouth hot and demanding. His hands were everywhere—pulling her close, tugging her pigtails out so they could run through her hair, cupping her cheek, running along her sides, making her shudder and groan.

"Guess that's a yes then," she mumbled as the pair of them stumbled toward the couch, Tim's focus more on her neck and collarbone.

He didn't respond (verbally) as they fell in a heap. But Abby figured that was okay because she liked his attention right where it was.

Later, when they were way past the afterglow stages, she was curled beside Tim in his bed for some well-earned rest. She liked the way the fit together—her head resting on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. And the steady beat of his heart was comforting, slowly lulling her to sleep.

Even when her bed buddy began shifting beside-slash-beneath her, she couldn't be bothered to move—or even open her eyes. Not when he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. Not when he brushed some hair off her forehead. Not when he sighed softly. Not when he spoke, quiet words into her hair: "It always feels right with you, Abs."

Or maybe it was _especially_ after that last one. Because she didn't know what to say, not when he sounded so sad. (Like maybe admitting it hurt him, like maybe it broke his heart a little.) So Abby ignored the tight, unpleasant feeling in her chest and continued to pretend to sleep—until she wasn't pretending anymore.


	13. Ignition

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait—I've been caught up in help_pakistan over at livejournal, which is still going on if anyone out there's interested in bidding!—but here's another drabble. This one's an episode tag told from Abby's perspective. It doesn't address any fallout from the last chapter but we will get there, slowly, I promise! Unbeta'd, yet again—apologies for that. Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Ignition**

McGee was obviously still on cloud nine when he swung into Abby's lab. "Best. Case. _Ever_."

It was then that Abby decided enough was enough. The case was over; she was putting her foot down. "McGee, you know that I love you…"

His expression grew suspicious (and maybe something else too). "Uh-huh," he agreed after a moment's hesitation.

Abby ignored it. "But if you don't stop with the jetpack stuff now, we will have an intervention."

"We?" He looked around her lab like the rest of the team was going to jump out at any moment.

A nice idea but, sadly, she hadn't thought that far ahead. "Well, I only have me so far," she admitted, "but I'm sure I could get Tony, Ziva and Ducky on board—maybe even Gibbs." If she could explain things in layman's to him. Or convince him that this was the only way to get McGee to stop the tech talk.

He sighed. "I know it gets old, but I just love the idea _so_ _much_." The youthful hope on his face was cute; it reminded Abby of when she'd first met him.

Patting his shoulder, she tried to sound sympathetic. "I know. Just… save the really geeky parts for internet forums next time, okay?"

"What about the film?" he asked hopefully.

Abby shook her head and tried not to laugh at his dejected expression. She hugged his shoulders, kissed his cheek and returned to organizing evidence for the locker. After a moment of sulking McGee began helping. She grinned—she'd trained him well.


	14. Flesh and Blood

**Author's Note: **Sometime during the episode and told from McGee's perspective. Sort of relates back to the second _Silent Night_ vignette. Unbeta'd as per the usual. Thanks for reading!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Flesh and Blood**

There was a smirk on Tim's face as he watched Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. speaking with Ziva—and the smile she gave him in response. "Wow." He shook his head, bemused. "I guess now we know where Tony gets it from, huh?"

Abby smacked his arm but couldn't hide the small quirk of amusement on her lips. A comfortable silence fell between them for a minute before she picked up the conversation again. "What about your parents?"

Tim blinked. "What about them?" he asked, caught between confusion and wariness.

"When are we going to meet them?" She tilted her head at Tim. "I mean, even when we were dating, you never introduced me." If she'd been anyone else, he might've worried that her feelings were hurt.

But this was Abby and meeting parents was serious business as far as he was concerned, and she hadn't wanted to be serious. So he just shrugged and made an excuse: "They don't travel here much."

The expression on her face was one of skepticism as she eyed him. "Oh." Clearly she wasn't buying it.

He didn't explain further, though. Because, truth was, Tim had already told them all about her—had even planned the introduction out back during their dating phase. He'd just been waiting until he could move things between them beyond casual. But, of course, that day never came and then they became something… _else_. Friends, mostly, but sometimes more, too.

And, really, he didn't even know _how_ to begin to explain her to them. What she meant to him, how their relationship worked. He just knew the idea made him vaguely nauseated, something he suspected had more to do with the unstated 'more' than anything else—and the way they never, _ever_ talked about it.

This time the silence between them wasn't anything resembling comfortable. Tim suspected they were both relieved when Gibbs called for their attention.


	15. Jet Lag

**Author's Note: **300 word drabble set before the episode's start. Told from McGee's perspective. This is the one that started it all! The first drabble I wrote because _Paris_, y'know? Someone needed to say it! Also, I'd like to toss out a big thank you to everyone who's favorited, reviewed, alerted and recced this story—your support is amazing and I'm thrilled it's been an enjoyable ride thus far. I hope I can keep it up! (And I also hope it won't take as long to post the next chapter, apologies for the longish wait!) Unbeta'd, sorry, so do poke if mistakes were made! Thanks all.  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Jet Lag**

"So Paris, huh?" That was how Abby announced her presence in the bullpen shortly after Gibbs had left to take Ziva and Tony to the airport.

Tim didn't look up; he just continued typing on his keyboard. "Mm-hmm."

"That's where Gibbs and Jenny—"

Tim's jaw tightened reflexively but only for a moment. "Yep."

"Do you think Tony and Ziva—?"

"Nope."

Abby frowned. "Why not, McGee?"

"Because…" Tim took a sharp breath in through his nose, "because Ziva was dead and Tony was just… not himself. Not at all." He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. "And all of that _before_ Paris…"

"Timmy…" He still didn't look at her, even when she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Things are different now."

"Yeah?" He glanced at Ziva's empty desk. "Unless Ziva leaves again."

He could feel Abby frowning at him. "She's not leaving again. She's not Mossad anymore, she's a real NCIS agent now." _In training_, he didn't correct.

Instead, he just shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe."

"Tim." She was using her stern voice now. "She's _not_ leaving."

He didn't comment, unwilling to argue any longer. He didn't want to think about this, let alone talk about it.

When Abby realized he wasn't going to respond, she huffed loudly and swung around to the front of his desk again. "I'm going to blame you and your negative energy if she leaves again."

Finally Tim looked up at her. It wasn't that he wanted to be pessimistic; it'd just been hard, seeing his teammates suffering. And he just wasn't certain he trusted Ziva not to do it again—not yet. "Abby…"

"Save it, McGee." Whirling around, she stomped off.

Tim watched her as she stalked away but didn't call after her. He sighed instead and tried to get back to work.


	16. Masquerade

**Author's Note: **400 word drabble set during various parts of the episode. Told from McGee's perspective. Unbeta'd, as per the usual, so do poke if mistakes have been made! Cheers.  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Masquerade**

Tim recognized Abby's signature run even in the hazmat suit. When she leapt on Tony, he knew she was still annoyed with him. She gave hugs to Ziva, Gibbs, Ducky and even Palmer before him. "I'm glad you're okay," she told him when it was finally his turn.

"Me too." Despite having to wait, Tim hugged her tightly. "Even though I knew the theory, I don't think I really expected the Geiger counter to go off like that."

Abby nodded and gave him another squeeze before heading to supervise the transportation of her evidence by similarly suited workers.

Later, when Tim joined her in her lab, Abby seemed back to her happy self. (Apparently hazmat suits made for a fun day when there wasn't enough radiation involved to really hurt anyone.) Although the news she had to share with him about the dirty bomb material did nothing to lift his mood.

"Guess I better let Gibbs know." Tim wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

She nodded, moving her gaze back to the computer screens. He was almost out the door when she spoke again: "I'm not mad, you know." Tim would've wondered how she knew but she was Abby and that could easily be the answer in and of itself. "I didn't jump on you because I was afraid I'd knock you down."

Tim blanched. "What? Abby, I'm a federal agent! My gym membership is more than a decoration for my wallet."

She shrugged. "I know but you're so skinny now."

"And that's bad?" His brows were furrowed in confusion—he was healthier, more confident and felt better all around than he ever had.

Abby shook her head. "No… just different. I mean, I liked you before," which he'd already known but the reminder still made his ears turn red, "but I like you now, too."

Tim accepted, as he had many times before, that he had no idea what she meant. Was there an underlying meaning or was it just Abby being Abby? Who knew? (He didn't think on it too hard—it was safer that way.) "Okay. Thanks, Abs." He edged toward the lab's exit. "Well, I'm gonna go give Gibbs the bad news."

"Good luck, McGee!" Abby called with a cheerful wave.

Tim shook his head all the way back up to the bullpen, a hint of a smile on his face in spite of it all.


	17. Jack Knife I

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long wait! (I've been playing with writing memes and they're very distracting.) Anyway, this bit's set during the episode and told from McGee's perspective. Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Jack Knife (I)**

"McGee!" Not an uncommon greeting for Tim when entering Abby's lab—and neither was the hug he received. The subsequent pat down, however, was new.

"Abby?" When her hands started roaming a bit lower than he was strictly comfortable (especially in a somewhat public setting), Tim tried to protect his modesty. "Abby! What are you—?"

Naturally, she didn't let him finish the thought. "McGee, is it true? I heard Werth is back again!" She began groping, poking and prodding him again. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt any of you, did he?" Tim was trying to save whatever dignity he might have left when she suddenly threw her arms around him in another hug. "Oh my God, what is Gibbs _thinking _letting him back here again?"

It was a testament to how tired he was that he was so thrown off. "Abby—Abby, it's okay." He squeezed her back. "He just wants to find out who killed his friend."

"Could've been him," she mumbled into his shoulder. "It's not like he remembers what happened."

He pulled away enough to clasp his hands on her shoulders. "C'mon, Abs, that's not fair. He could've walked away, but he didn't; he came to us for help." Granted, it was at a time when Tim would've much rather been sleeping but that wasn't the point. "And he's not on steroids anymore, either—Gibbs tested him and everything."

Looking away momentarily, Abby heaved a sigh. "I know; I ran the sample myself, and I'm testing him now for other substances. It's just," her pale green eyes snapped back to his, "he hurt you—_all_ of you." She touched his face but it was gentler than before. "You, Ziva, Tony, _Gibbs_…"

Tim covered her hand with his and smiled softly. "Hey. Nothing's happened—and nothing's _going to_ _happen_, either."

If the height of her eyebrows was anything to judge by, Abby was far from convinced. "How do you know that?"

"Because," he couldn't stop himself from smirking, "he knows he'll have to deal with you if anything does. And he also knows you can kill without leaving any forensic evidence."

That made her smile. "Okay."

Tim dropped his hold on her hand and she let hers fall away, too. "Okay."

Of course, that didn't stop Abby from stating the obvious after a moment of silence between them: "I still don't like him, though."

"Of course not," he agreed with a touch too much amusement, apparently, because that response earned him a smack to the shoulder. "Ow!"

Abby just gave him a Look and he was smart enough to appear contrite in response.

* * *

**End Note: **I know Werth showed up earlier in the season, but I'm going with the theory that after he popped up with Bell's men, they moved on that whole thing quickly and quite possibly without Abby knowing. So she didn't have a chance to freak out about him before and then he was gone again.


	18. Jack Knife II

**Author's Note:** Told from Abby's perspective. Set later but still during the episode. (I just couldn't help myself—I love her taking care of him.) Cheers!  
**Disclaimer: **Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/DPB; I am simply borrowing them for my purposes. Also, the title is a quote from The Bard and, therefore, not my own. Please don't sue.

**What's Past is Prologue  
**by, Caliente

**Jack Knife (II)**

McGee was wilting. Abby knew he wouldn't appreciate the description but it was true. He was fading fast and if she didn't intervene, she suspected he might fall off the lab stool and then she'd have two of her team injured! (Gibbs wearing a sling was bad enough.) Plus it wasn't like he was really getting any work done at the moment.

"Hey." She touched his arm and he jumped a little in surprise—another sign of his tiredness. "Why don't you lay down for a little bit? I can run the searches, while my babies work their magic on the evidence."

There was a moment of hesitation from him during which Abby schooled her expression to be patient (although if he tried to argue with her, she wasn't above using force) but he nodded and it was moot.

She led him into her office, grabbing Bert from his perch and handing him off to McGee.

"I'm just going to rest my eyes for a moment," he told her seriously. "Just a minute or two."

To her credit, Abby didn't scoff. (She did shoot him a dubious look, mostly due to the photos Ziva'd emailed her earlier showing him drooling on his desk.) Then she busied herself with turning off the stereo and making sure her iPod was charged—because music was like the butter to the bread of forensics, not strictly _necessary_ but essential to her enjoyment.

There was the telltale sound of Bert's fart followed by McGee sighing contently. Abby decided that was her cue to go. Her door swished open and she flicked the lights off, glancing back one last time as she did. (He just looked so adorably _peaceful_—it was nice after all the stress Gibbs had been putting on him.)

As if he could sense her attention, he made a last mumbled request: "Just make sure I'm up by two please?"

Abby grinned. "Sure thing, McGee." Then she left him to his own devices, trusting he wouldn't roll over and fall off the table in her absence. (Seriously—no more injuries!)


End file.
